Pondering Love

Love, come to me.

Oh, I will live in You!

Vehemence for Love,

Every breath for You.

Now, we see through a glass.

Every breath for You. 

Vehemence for Love,

Even when I see nothing

Reminded am I:

Every breath for You.

Nothing can separate me.

Dwelling here,

Satisfies.

Bags of Grain

I have had a very fruitful harvest,

My storehouse is full of grain. 

There are sacks upon sacks in assembly,

And I am in gain.

A bag of grain

Can feed a family. 

A bag of grain, 

Is wealth. 

One woman can eat only so much bread. 

One woman,

Limited times, 

To be fed. 

It is gluttony to keep it. 

It is gluttony to eat

More than your fill. 

I am in gain. 

What uses are there 

For grain? 

Such a plentiful harvest.

The storehouse is full. 

Grind grain,

Make flour. 

Sell grain,

Make a dollar. 

You can feed 

animals, 

Many will eat. 

Many will cluster. 

Forty-Thirtyone

Will I hear you in the quiet?

All I need is there. 

I do feel faint.

Tell me that I can

Understood, I am not

Perhaps not human

Only autopsy will tell

Now, we wait. 

Tell me that I can

Help my unbelief

Each breath takes air from me. 

Let me be understood,

Or, let me be gone. 

Really, I do feel faint.

Determined yet, to stay. 

Blossoms

The start is clear, 

The blossoms appear.

There's a bloom across my tree.

In each, there is a seed. 

Blossoms die sometimes

Sometimes I kill these. 

Blossoms come quickly. 

Fruit evade me.

Where, the fertile soil?

Where, the good earth?

Where, the strong rays?

Where, the bees?

Let that be me.

Better is one day,

Better is one day,

Better is one day,

Better is one day.

I meditate on how little I know,

And face the vastness of God.

Worship follows awe, and silence;

I am humbled and overjoyed.

Let me be good soil,

Let me be good earth.

Or, let me be seeds,

Honest and plentiful. 

Plants grow from soil,

Water and Sunlight.

They spring up from seed,

Let that be me.

Whatever seed you plant,
Will only ever be that tree.
Love, Faith, Hope:
Let that be me.

Stalks.

The stalks have wanted to come up for ages,

But I protected them with soil.

I could sense their need for nourishment, so I fed them.

More earth, more fertile coverage. 

I watered them too, 

And took keen note of their spot. 

I believed in the plant,

But I was afraid it would come up. 

With water, and food and the promise of light, 

Maybe one day, maybe. 

Fright. 

Just a little longer, under the earth. 

Earth is for roots, and sun is for branches. 

A Small request

I'm asking to avoid a fight, today,

Fights exist, and I'm aware of them,

But in this moment I'm seeking some foray

Of air, motion, colour, beauty and love,

Gobbling goodness

May I?

These hands

I have to do something with these hands. 

The fire burns me less when they are moving:

I could be broken, or I could be primed.

This could be a condition, or it could be time. 

Remember: Mill, not Monument.

No memorial of a past life

No statues, no stillness: there is still time.

Work is left to be done.

Barrage

Belittled are the sparks,

Arranged, and ignited in me.

Reassured of my misplacement,

Referenced casually.

All too disillusioned am I.

Gross hours, gross days

Each silence an eraser.

Belittled are the sparks,

All too disillusioned am I

Reference me, reference me.

Reassured of my misplacement,

Anyway, I voice the spark.

Grappling with the lack of fire,

Each attempt a testament.

Canvas

I sat at the canvas for a year,

I've been waiting here for ever.

I stared at the blank page for a long time,

Insistent that there was something there.

There are pails of colours around me, 

I finally dip my fingers in. 

Each bucket's colours stain me, 

And streak my page. 

She told me that once finished,

She needed the paintings to run free.

The longer they stayed with her, 

The more strained she'd feel.

I find myself pinning my work to string,

Like developed photographs

Freshly out of solution. 

The poised images of my altered heart.

Corves.

Hope has been known to humiliate,

When silence has a lot of breath.

Silence can be ridiculing,

And hope, hateful.

Whose force is larger?

The seen and heard silence,

Or the un-sensed notion?

I fight for one.

For a long time, I forgot.

I forgot that realised hope intoxicates.

I forgot the misery of silence,

When I'm moved by hopefulness.

I gather the hopes in a corf,

Optimism is my container.

The silence I respect.

Even as I acknowledge the presence of fire.

Remoras Are On To Something!

Imagine coiling loops,

I'm wielding quite a few.

More than I ever have before,

I'm interested in new doors.

Remoras, Remoras, Remoras! 

Pilot fish swim alongside.

Is it mutualist if they don't give anything back? 

I suppose there's pride in knowing

That they see me as a source, 

I suppose there's pride,

In being sought.

The more loops, the greater the coil, 

The grander the surface,

The richer the soil.

Safety.

I could use a good friend now,

You know the kind that I mean? 

I could use the kind of curtain-drawn friend. 

No secrets un-safe. 

That's a truth that hurts to say,

Because I don't have her and it's not okay. 

I can see her in my mind's eye,

But I'm alone to cry. 

You know that déjà vu,

Because you've been here before? 

Only this case, the details are changed

Familiar but foreign, Only, I am the same. 

I could use a good friend right now. 

I know the kind I mean. 

I've had Him before,

I was safe, there. 

Thankful for Sadness

I'd like to express my gratitude,

For sadness. 

I'd like to appreciate pain. 

To bend, to barge, to slit or trim,

To break the skin of my twisted whim, 

That contact for me, was gain.

Imagine my life without disruption,

Imagine a course never diverted. 

I consider it a gift to see these "mistakes."

Be brave, be bold, be strong.

Be dauntless, earnest and endure long. 

These, good and bad, are the stakes.

Interactions Between Continuous Variables.

Purely dread preoccupies

Let me catch my breath

Even with assurance,

Also true is dread

Searching for

Even the smallest comfort

How can I calm myself?

Each moment is alone

Losing something doesn't always feel like a gift

Purely dread preoccupies.

Delusions of Grandeur

I pressed my hand deep into my stomach. 

I made sure I got to the core. 

I found it, held it, and pulled.

Threading thinly through,

I sow my heart in You.

I must first spin the contents new.

Do I transform it, or simply admit that it's there?

Is that where change begins?

I face my fears, my hopes, my dreams; I admit to all my sins.

How humiliating it is, to make a mistake!

How important is my suffering.

How do I face my plight if all I have is wondering?

Shall I hide, cry, die?

Because I dare to hope?

I keep walking forward, keep persevering and it leaves me with a desire to tope.

The message sent says "Have a seat."

The message inside says get up and reach!

The result is somewhat chaotic.

These are my delusions,

They're special to me.

I think that I will keep them.

Dammit.

Look for her arms, 

Down, feet grow into legs.

See hips, waist and breasts.

She definitely exists, let me confirm. 

She definitely exists.

Look for her eyes,

Up, there is a smile.

See her mouth, lips curved slight. 

A Great Appeal.

A wild horse can be tamed, 

But she will not come when you call her.

She may trot to your vicinity, 

But she will not stay. 

A wild horse desires the mountainside,

The wind, dangerous and liberating. 

She will watch you approach her,

She will measure your steps. 

A wild horse gives you something.

Sometimes you receive it,

Other times,

You feel robbed.

She is powerful and assertive,

Placed so precisely on the earth. 

She may never obey you. 

This, a great appeal.  

Sunshine

There's something really jolting about the sunshine, 

Especially after its been cold for a while. 

It's like a reminder, or a piece of thread,

Sewn from the natural world, right through my flesh. 

The connection I forgot, 

Is back again. 

I am human,

I am living. 

The Hardest Part

Seriously, everything is on the table.

Each card has been dealt.

Let me take a moment to, 

Feel a bit embarrassed.

Can I admit all there is,

On the assumption that that will be helpful? 

Now that I'm a telling person,

There's no end to the change of 

Roles that comes along with that. 

Only I know who I need to be:

Let's agree that things are better now.

A Challenge.

Grace is something I'm quietly waiting to understand

Each time I think I know it,

No, there's more to it than I hold.

To be faced with all I am, all you are,

Let it be a soft, kind moment.

Each time I think I know it,

No, there's more to it than I can hold.

Every day is a lesson.

So I give myself, and you, what we need

So, I give it time. 

For the love of all that is Holy,

Anyone could have given up! 

I know there must be limits to what I have earned.

There must be limits.

Here, I find none. 

For the love of all that is Holy,

Understanding is a job.

Let me see?

New life comes with the promise

Every hope 

Shines, 

Shapes.

Pouring Out.

Keep on going,

It's no time to quit.

No, it's not about what's changed.

Don't look around, look in! 

No need to stay where you were

Each answer gives you something you need. 

So, don't wait to be asked, 

Show us all what you've got. 

Go, do, speak, see.

Only you know what you feel. 

One foot glides in front of the other. 

Don't let it happen without you.

Never let yourself check out.

Each moment can meet a need

So, don't wait to be asked. 

Show us all what you've got. 

Untitled

Please believe me when I say "I see you"

And it isn't enough.

There's more to me than this. 

I am waiting on something wonderful:

Effervesce, erupt, explode! 

Nothing changes waiting like a good promise. 

Can I tell you about my glee? 

Each hopeful aspiration kisses me sweetly.

Values (Everything is Coming)

Let me see what I can do

Over, just a bit further 

Very intent am I

Everything is coming

Just when I feel like giving up

Over, just a bit further

You're here. 

Please be my strength

Everything is coming.

And I don't know if I'm equipped. 

Can't give up now! 

Everything is coming. 

That's All.

The branches had a strange glow to them,

Half the tree in glowing grey shadow.

It looked like you in there,

No leaves, no fruit.

It's not like you're not alive,

It's not like you're not beautiful.

There's just nothing there,

For me.

I looked, long, and I liked the glow.

I'm going now. 

FDOS: A Painting.

See the mouth, twice the size of the body. 

A stream of paths flow in. 

Insatiable. Gluttonous. Hungry. 

See the mouth, twice the size of the body. 

Perhaps the strangest painting I've seen,

It's about consumption more than eating

The body is a processor 

The paths are meals.

Seeping Confessions

Do I pick the soapbox, or the cave?

Do I want peace now, or to know my own name?

I have a burning fire in my chest. 

There will be absolutely no rest. 

Either I shut my mouth, and go inside, 

Or I face the fear of a broken pride.

The time is coming when I can no longer stand it,

A life un-lived, a "life," not candid. 

To face my fears is to stand naked in the crowd; 

I'd have to know my shapes, and present them, proud.

There's something worth saying, inside of me,

There's a risk worth taking, worth the fee. 

Shall I admit it in a poem that no one understands? 

That seems fitting, a cunning plan! 

But seriously though, where do I say it? 

Do I just let seeping confessions posit?

Do I make a bold life move, that everybody sees?

Do I secretly transform, and note who recognises me? 

Exertion

It's in that moment,
A rising of the chest.
I close my eyes and hold it,
A moment I like best.

I connect, I connect, I connect.

I gulp in my breath,
As my muscles pull me through.
It's a special pleasure
To bid my rest adieu.

I connect, I connect, I connect.

Tension in my kick,
The skin of my back stretched taut.
Lungs feel closer to my chest,
Slick body sought.

I connect, I connect, I connect.

   

Permanence: An Acrostic

Purpose is coming,
Energy is here.
Remembering to use it,
Many times it comes as fear.
Any emotion is useful
None are in vain
Energy is here!
Now, we build.
Come with me! Come with me!
Emotions scatter around, like children at play.